Firelight
by RonaldAndMione
Summary: After the final battle, Ron and Hermione have a quiet moment of piece in the Gryffindor common room, where Ron is finally able to get something off of his chest (not just his shirt!). Rated T for language.


_A/N Yes, it's been a while! I haven't had too much time to write, save for the odd moment. This was written in one of those moments, hence its shortness. There are two other works waiting to be published and they will be shared soon, but aside from those, it's unlikely that I'll be able to write any more any time soon._

 _This has been up on my tumblr for a few months now, so follow me there to stay updated - I write the odd drabble from time to time, so if you're interested, it's like-a-whisper . tumblr . com (minus the spaces)._

 _For now, here's this piece. It's set in the movie!verse, and inspired by the deleted scene from Deathly Hallows Part II where Ron and Hermione are running from Nagini, however it's not necessary to have read that to understand this._

 _Hope you all had a lovely holiday season, and I wish you all the best for 2016!_

 **Firelight**

He'd wanted to kick himself when Hermione's fingers brushed a particularly nasty cut on hisback through his shirt and he'd accidentally flinched. Her eyes had widened and she'd let go of him, breaking their embrace on the couch of the Gryffindor common room and leaving him much colder and emptier as a result.

But now she was pulling out some dittany from her beaded bag and looking at him expectantly. Then, in a voice that was brisk, business-like and simultaneously ridiculously attractive for Ron, she said, "Take off your shirt."

He gulped nervously and watched her, waiting for her to realise what she'd just said and retract it.

She didn't. She stared back, one eyebrow slightly raised.

And so he shrugged off his jacket, trying to hide his winces from her, and then quickly (before he could chicken out) grasped the neck of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Goosebumps rose up along his newly exposed skin and he shivered. Leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, he turned his head to the right and looked up at Hermione through his too-long fringe.

She was looking back, but her eyes had a glazed look about them and Ron wondered whether or not that was just the firelight. Then, with a clear of the throat and a slight straightening of her back, Hermione had returned.

"Hold still," she said softly, then dabbed her fingers in the dittany before gently placing them on a cut on his back. He promptly hissed. "Shh," she whispered soothingly. "Just hold on for a bit."

Ron grimaced but nodded, burrowing his head in his hands. He tried to focus not on the stinging, but rather on Hermione's soft, cool touch. She worked with such care and delicacy that Ron felt perhaps the injuries were worth this. They'd done this countless times this past year, but it felt different now that the battle was done, now that the war was over… now that they'd kissed.

"How did you get so many?" Hermione wondered aloud, breaking the air of tranquility. "It looks as though glass fell on you or something… but they're too deep and big for just fragments, and I don't see any broken fragments, thank goodness, but…" Her voice trailed off and she continued applying the dittany in silence.

Until, "It was-" Ron paused to clear his throat, for his voice felt awfully heavy and raw when he spoke. "When we fell on the rubble."

He could feel her fingers pause. "Rubble?" she repeated, sounding rather distant.

Ron nodded. "When we were running away from the snake… when we fell onto the pile of bricks…" He turned to look at her again, and saw once again that she was looking back, but instead of looking as though she were far-away, this time, she looked so very present. With a fierce burning in her eyes, she was staring at him as though she'd never quite seen him before, her lips pursed in intense concentration as if she were attempting to memorise every inch of his face, every part of this moment.

He widened his eyes a little, both in expectation and confusion. She seemed to remember herself again, but rather than return to the task at hand, she swallowed, licked her lips and, what looked to be subconsciously, stroked a small unharmed spot on his back.

"You took the brunt of it for me," she finally stated, her voice small but strong, leaving no room for argument.

The left corner of Ron's lips curved up slightly at how... _Hermione_ she could be at a time like this, when it felt as though the world had fallen apart around them. He couldn't argue with her, and if he tried to downplay what she'd suggested, he knew she would use what strength she had left (which, Ron felt, was quite an amazing amount) to scold him. So he said nothing.

"You fell on the rubble and pulled me on top of you as we fell…" she continued, her voice quivering a little. "To make sure I wouldn't fall right onto the bricks." She swallowed, her eyes looking awfully bright. "Didn't you?" she added, almost imploring him to answer.

Ron let out a soft breath and shrugged with his left shoulder. "S'pose I did," he finally said, continuing to look at her. He'd just survived a war, he'd kissed Hermione Granger, he could do whatever the hell he wanted.

And she looked back, again with that blazing expression on her face. After what felt like an eternity, she sniffed and leant forward, resting her left cheek against his back. All Ron could see was the curls on her head and the slow rise and fall of her eyelashes, and he smiled. His back hurt like hell from the pressure, but he had never felt better-

But then he felt a soft, warm and slightly wet sensation against his right shoulder - feather-soft, light as a brush and over within seconds, and he had to rethink that statement. _Now,_ he had never felt better. He twitched his head just slightly and felt Hermione smile into his shoulder; he knew she was hiding a laugh, which made him want to laugh too.

They stared into the fire together, watching it flicker and burn. And despite its loud cracks and the fact that not a few hours ago Ron had been wondering whether he would live to see the morning, Ron had never felt more at peace.

"Hermione?" he spoke aloud, his voice cracking from little use.

Hermione didn't move from her spot. "Hm?"

Ron sighed, quietly, hoping she wouldn't notice. He tilted his head to look at her, but it was difficult from the angle. He couldn't analyse her body language… all he had to go on was his knowledge of her.

He watched her for a moment longer before finally murmuring, "We're not about to be killed by a giant snake."

There was a pause, a bit of tension building in the air around them. He felt her stiffen and he wondered whether he should go on. Finally she relaxed a little and lifted her head up from his shoulder, meeting his eyes. She watched him carefully, before finally whispering, "Go on, then." She looked serious, but Ron could tell her lips were twitching in an attempt to hide a nervous, anticipating smile.

Ron himself couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, and he let her fill him with courage before finally uttering, "I love you."

And then her smile broke free and she relaxed completely, letting out a soft, breathy laugh before leaning forward and lightly brushing her lips against his. She moved back a few millimetres and Ron could see a few small, barely there scars on her face, and a light smattering of dirt. She looked alive and beautiful as she beamed at him, her breath warming his nose. "I love you," she whispered back, as though it were a secret only for him. And then it was his turn to kiss her, also softly, and they smiled against each other. His hands moved from his knees to gently stroke her thigh and side and hers coiled around his neck, meeting on his left shoulder.

Suddenly Ron winced and pulled his face back abruptly, and her arms were off of him in a flash.

"Sorry! Sorry! I am so sorry!" she exclaimed. Her hands moved forward to rub his back again, before remembering that that was the very cause of his pain and stopping.

"Don't be," he croaked out, closing his eyes as though that would help him block out the pain.

"I forgot to finish," he heard Hermione murmur, and he opened his eyes to smirk at her.

"Guess you got distracted?"

"Oh, hush," she said, lightly tapping his shoulder in annoyance, but then gliding her dittany-soaked fingers over his back once more.

He ducked his head, resting his arms on his knees again, and smiled at the Gryffindor carpet as she worked her magic. Yes, this - _she_ \- was worth it all.


End file.
